Chapter 30: Countless Casualties
At Nagoya Station, Vodka stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily. He looked up and saw the distant lights of the approaching train. A simple, clear order came from his boss. The primary target had escaped. It was time for the "cleanup."
The mission was a failure... they hadn't caught Sherry, and they'd stirred up a hornet's nest. But it didn't matter. A vicious grin returned to Vodka's face. From the frills of his maid's dress, he produced a black sphere the size of a basketball, radiating a palpable, sickening aura.
A high-yield, compressed magical bomb. Far more powerful than the ones on the bridge. All he had to do was send this train, and everyone on it, to hell. Then it would all be over.
He took a few steps back, his muscles coiling, and with a grunt of exertion, he hurled the bomb with all his might toward the speeding Bell Tree Express.
On the train and at the station, the Kyubeys ran their analyses. The magical girl team's remaining power wasn't enough to protect the entire train, but it was sufficient to shield the key individuals around them. At the same time, the Kyubeys were curious to see if this world's "correctional force"—Conan's uncanny luck—would once again pull off a miracle.
On the train, a fragile silence had fallen. The surviving passengers were weeping with relief. The crisis, it seemed, was over.
But Conan's internal alarm was screaming. It was too easy. Gin's withdrawal was too clean. And Vodka... he had never shown up. A terrible thought struck him. What if Sherry wasn't their only target? What if their target was the train itself?
"It's not over," Haibara whispered, her face paler than ever. "I have a very, very bad feeling..."
Subaru Okiya (Shuichi Akai) narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on the rear of the train.
At that moment, Conan caught a glimpse of the mysterious woman who had saved him earlier. She was standing a short distance away, mouthing two words to him.
Bomb. Station.
He understood instantly. It was coming from the station. It was Vodka.
"EVERYONE, GET DOWN!" he screamed.
At the exact same moment, a terrifying wave of magical energy, a tsunami of pure annihilation, slammed into the train from behind. Time seemed to stretch. The passengers' faces froze, their relief turning to confusion, then to a dawning, uncomprehending horror, and finally, to a pure, silent despair.
In that final instant, the Soul Gems of Ran, Kogoro, Haibara, and Mitsuhiko exploded with an unprecedented light. Acting on pure instinct, they poured every last drop of their remaining magic into a single, desperate act of protection. A massive, unstable, multi-colored shield of pink, amber, silver, and blue energy flickered into existence around them. Kaito Kid's good-luck charm from Akako flared with a crimson light, adding its own power to the barrier. And from somewhere else on the train, an almost invisible stream of silver energy shot out, reinforcing the shield's weakest point. It was Vermouth. She would protect her Angel and her Silver Bullet.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
The world dissolved into an apocalyptic roar and a blinding white light. The sound was a physical force, tearing at their eardrums, shattering their insides. The shockwave, a divine punishment, vaporized the rear half of the train. The steel cars, the tracks, the passengers... all of it was simply gone.
Those closest to the magical girls—Conan, Kid, Dr. Agasa, the Junior Detective League, Sonoko, and Akai—were at the very center of the shield and were largely spared the initial blast. But the hundreds of other innocent passengers farther back were not so lucky. There were no screams. There was no pain. They were simply... erased. Their bodies disintegrated, their blood vaporized, their bones turned to ash. They were wiped from existence, consumed by the fire and raw magic of the explosion.
The multi-layered shield held for a fraction of a second against the cataclysm before it shattered. The survivors were thrown violently against the twisted wreckage of the remaining train cars, battered and bloodied, but alive.
Where there should have been a train, there was now only a mangled, burning steel skeleton and a void of darkness.
In the distance, Gin watched the pillar of fire rise into the night sky. Vodka joined him, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Too much?" Gin asked, his voice flat.
"Nah, Boss," Vodka chuckled. "I killed everyone who saw me. No witnesses. No one will ever know it was us."
The last, desperate data transmission from the annihilated FBI team reached headquarters. In a secure video conference, the atmosphere was glacial.
"Unbelievable! A simple apprehension mission has turned into a massacre!" the FBI liaison's voice was sharp with accusation. "An entire federal tactical team, wiped out! The Japanese police's operational control and intel were a complete and utter failure!"
"A failure?!" the Japanese Public Security representative slammed his fist on the table. "Your people were using ours as cannon fodder! Our casualties are ten times yours! And the target's power was beyond anything we were prepared for! This is your fault!"
"That's bullshit!"
"You're the one who's full of shit!"
"ENOUGH!" The FBI liaison's voice cut through the argument. "This is no longer about assigning blame. Under the terms of the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty, this incident now constitutes a major threat to regional stability and American personnel. The subsequent investigation will be led by the United States. Japan will provide full cooperation."
The Japanese representative's face flushed with anger, but he knew he had no choice. In the face of America's power, they could only swallow their pride.
The anger subsided, replaced by a cold, heavy dread. "Vodka... and Gin..." the FBI liaison said. "The power they displayed is beyond the scope of conventional warfare. Our standard units are lambs to the slaughter against them. We are facing a new, unprecedented threat."
"We need a countermeasure," the Japanese representative agreed. "This power... we need to have it, too. We cannot afford to be on the defensive in this new battlefield."
The lines had been drawn. The world's balance of power was shifting. The bloody, brutal arrival of "magic" had just kicked off a new, secret arms race. The question was no longer about stopping the threat, but about controlling it. Because in this new world, those without power would be nothing more than helpless spectators. Or worse, casualties.